But as much wine as she’d tasted in her life, she’d never been to a private vintner party—never had so many varieties of exquisite wine in one setting. “He’s never brought a woman to one of these before.” The man who spoke had just walked up behind her, coming to stand with Sedona at the windowed wall of her host’s living room, overlooking the ocean. She tried for a chuckle that came out sounding more like a full-bodied laugh reminiscent of the petit Syrah she’d just sampled. “Don’t make too much of it,” she said, listening for Tanner’s voice at the bar off to her right. All afternoon she’d been aware of his presence, had known, even as she mingled with the twenty or so people in the elegant room, where he was every second. She could feel him there—close. And told herself that was because he was the only person in the room she knew. “We’re just friends,” she thought to add.
